


Blair Thoughts - The Vacation

by Joan963z



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joan963z/pseuds/Joan963z
Summary: Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended. I am only keeping the fandom alive in our heartsAcknowledgments: My thanks to Neichan for encouraging me to write this after my vacation.





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a comedy inspired by my recent visit to a friend’s new home in Florida. The story is exaggerated a bit in places, but only enough to turn it into fan fiction, and names have been changed to protect the guilty. I hope this story brings a smile.

Okay, so I am officially going insane. It's not that I don't like Rafe; he's great, as friends of Jim's go. Jim was best man at his wedding in Vegas. We had a lovely time, except that we took a cheep red-eye flight and got in at 2am. The lobby was crowded with people waiting to check in. Doesn't anyone fly in the day time any more? We were in line for an hour and then, when we got to our room, it wasn't made up. We called the front desk, of course, and were told housekeeping would be right up. Three calls later it was 4am and we finally got clean sheets to sleep on and clean towels for our morning shower, along with a promise of no charge for the night. But, that was a small inconvenience in the world’s scheme of things. The wedding was lovely. Mary, the bride was beautiful and the chapel was a perfect setting for their vows.

Did I mention Jim and Rafe were fellow detectives on the Cascade police squad? As close as close can be. I guess they saved each other’s life a few times. Jim is one of the few people Rafe will open up to and vise versa. When Rafe's mother passed away he inherited the family home in Florida. They tried to sell it but it's in a rural area and the market is depressed, or so they said. Personally I think that Mary had just had it with the Cascade winters and wanted to move to a warmer climate. Who could blame her? So, off they moved to Florida promising to stay in touch, and they did. Mary called twice a week, or at least she dialed the phone and then handed it over to Rafe so he and Jim could talk. They asked us to come and visit as soon as possible. Jim got some time off and we headed for a nice restful Florida vacation with friends. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. A cliché, I know, but, oh...so true.

It started out nice enough, manly slaps on the back with "It's good to see ya," and hugs from Mary. But from there it went down hill. The house is two hours from the airport and located in an area zoned for 5-acre lots. The closest neighbor is two football fields away on the other side of a narrow band of Florida forest. The closest grocery, store or store of any kind for that matter, is a half hour drive away. But our hosts have a pool and satellite TV. A computer you ask? Sorry, no computer. Mary doesn't believe in them. I asked what that meant. After all computers do exist. I found out that it was the use of computers she objected too; the pesky little things had all kinds of evil lurking, ready to steal a person’s identity. I pointed out that she was more likely to lose her identity using a credit card at a restaurant then on a computer. "I don't believe in credit cards either," she told me. I assumed that meant she didn't believe in using them. I just shrugged, to each his own. No problem...I brought my trusty laptop with me, unfortunately their home is located in a dead zone...no Wifi available. How bad can it be? I'm a big boy. I grew up without computers; surely I can go a week without a computer. Did I mention I'm going insane?

You see, there is nothing to do! That's my opinion and I'm sticking with it. It is not an opinion shared by Rafe and Mary. Mary has two cats, Rebel and Scooter. Rebel likes to go outside in the screened in lanai and Mary stands at the sliding door watching him while I lounge on the couch under the air conditioning vent. Yes, me, Mr. Flannel shirt, directly under the AC vent because Mary keeps the sliding door to the lanai open 4 inches so the cats can go in and out. God knows I like warm weather but 97 degrees and 70% humidity with an open door does not a comfortable house, make.

"Oh, look," Mary says, "Rebel is laying in the sun. Isn't he beautiful."

"Yes, he's a lovely cat," I answer with out getting up. Twenty minutes later Rebel has had enough of the sun and the 97 degree heat.

"Oh, look, Rebel is walking around. He's sniffing at the plant pot. Oooo, he's going to lay down in the shade. He is so beautiful. He's just beautiful… what a beautiful boy." Twenty minutes after that Mary is still standing in the same place when Rebel decides to get a drink of water. "Look, Rebel's getting up again...he's heading for his water dish. I think he is going to get a drink. I hope the water isn't too warm. Do you think the water will be too warm for him Blair?"

"I doubt it Mary, the water has been in the shade and he's a cat," I answer. "I don't think cats like cold water."

"You're wrong," Mary tells me, not for the first time this week and not the last time either. "He's not a cat he's my son. He likes cold water. He shouldn't have to drink warm water. I'm going to change his water." And off she stomps to snatch the bowl of warm water right out from under Rebel's nose.

Rebel is not a happy cat. He glares at her retreating back slashing his tail like a whip. True to his cat-hood he turns up his nose to the bowl of cold water that appears a minute later, raises his tail to full mast, and walks majestically over to the swimming pool full of 75 degree water and takes a drink.

"You brat," Mary yells. "You are such a brat." And she stomps off to wash the laundry room floor. Rebel flicks his tail in what I think may just be the cat equivalent of giving a human the finger.

And where are Jim and Rafe during this wonderful forty five minute interlude of domestic bliss. They are off for an hour and a half of male bonding while making a trash run to the county dump.


	2. Chapter 2 - Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch or not lunch that is the question.

The guys come back smiling and Rafe has a grocery bag he holds up for Mary to see. "I bought some cold cuts for lunch," he says with his bright smile and easygoing attitude. 

"I don't eat lunch," Mary says, in what I now realize is her standard 'holier then thou' attitude. "You can make your own sandwiches; I'm not making them." 

"Blair will make mine," Jim says, looking at me with pride. "He makes the best sandwiches I've ever tasted." 

"Flattery will get you everywhere, big guy," I say, as I relinquish my spot under the air conditioner vent. 

Jim pulls me into a hug and nuzzles my neck as I make my way to the kitchen to fix lunch for the three of us. 

"Get a room," Mary barks.

Jim let's go of me immediately and slips back into his tried and true, stoic Jim, persona.

"I'm just yanking your chain," Mary tells him as if he is the biggest imbecile the world has ever seen. “Did you know that historians have recently discovered that Jesus was gay?"

Woe, where the hell did that come from? “I hadn’t heard that,” I tell her. “You should be careful where you say it. A lot of Christians may find it sacrilegious.”

“Well, you should know all about it.” Mary tells me, and I realize I just edged out Jim for Mary’s idiot award. “You’re an anthropological archaeologist. Don’t you keep up with the latest findings? And since when do scientist care if science is sacrilegious?”

“Mary,” Rafe interrupts, “I’m hungry. Why don’t you let Blair fix lunch?”

“Go ahead and kissy-kissy all you want.” she says with a wave of her hand. “I won’t say a word. Gee, I was just yanking your chain with the get a room stuff, I didn’t know you were so sensitive. Well aren’t you going to kiss?” she asks as Jim walks toward the bathroom.

“We just got back from the dump,” he tells her. “I need to wash up before I eat.”

But, I know it’s too little too late, Jim will never touch me again in front of Mary. After washing my hands at the kitchen sink I busy myself making three sandwiches while Mary stands behind me, watching. By the time I finish Jim is back and I offer to make Mary a sandwich, just to be polite, but she tells me she doesn't eat sandwiches, she doesn't like them and she tells me again she doesn't eat lunch, she hasn't eaten lunch for years. Rafe must realize how annoying his wife can be, because he grabs three cold ones from the fridge and suggests we go out on the lanai to eat.

A few minutes later Mary appears with a plate full of food and joins us. Since the two big guys ignore her I figure it's up to me to say something and try to make peace. "I'm glad you changed your mind and decided to join us for lunch," I say with a smile. 

"This isn't lunch," she tells me. "This is a snack." 

I open my mouth to say something, but Jim gives me a hard nudge under the table. Instead of speaking I take a bite of my sandwich. I swear that if I said the night was dark that woman would argue that it wasn't.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun in the pool?

We no sooner take the last bite of our sandwich then Mary is at it again. "Why aren't you in the pool?" she asks. The water is warm; it's just like bath water. You don't believe me." 

"We just finished eating," Jim tells her. "We want to wait a bit for the food to digest." 

"That's an old wives tail," she tells him. "You don't have to wait for your meal to digest. You don't believe me that the water is warm, but I guarantee that once you get in you won't want to get out. Don't you want to see the dead spider in the pool?" 

"What?" I ask, I should have learned better by now. "It sounded like you said there's a dead spider in the pool." 

"There is," she tells me. "I found it this morning and threw it in. You can look for it when you go in." 

"Why would you throw a dead spider into your swimming pool?' I ask. 

"To make sure it's dead." She tells me. And it is official; I have just clinched Mary's much un-converted Idiot of the Year award. 

"Most people take bugs out of their swimming pool," I point out.

Jim isn't about to let this escalate into an argument so he stands up, grabs my arm and pulls me into the house. "Let's get our swim suites on, Chief." 

@@@@@

There are worse things then having Jim rub sunscreen onto my back. I’m practically purring when I hear that grating voice again. 

“Aren’t you going to go into the pool,” Mary yells. 

“We’re just putting on our sunscreen,” Jim calls back. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.” 

“You know the sun is good for you,” She persists.

“I don’t believe all that hype about skin cancer. It’s just big business stealing our money. We get vitamin D from the sun and you two are too pale. You need some color. You look sickly.” 

I take a look at Jim’s six-pack abs and muscular arms. “Yeah, Big Guy,” I whisper, “you are definitely sickly. I’ll have to get you to a doctor as soon as we get back to Cascade.” 

@@@@@ 

We come back out onto the lanai and Mary is happily splashing in the pool with a bright orange swimmies on each arm. I whisper so only a sentinel can hear. “Can you see the dead spider? I don’t want it to get caught in my hair.” 

“Had to dial down,” Jim whispers back. “Too much glair on the water, sorry Chief.” 

“Come on in,” Mary says. “The water is so warm it’s just like bath water.” 

I scan the surface of the water as best I can without my glasses and can’t see any arachnid corpses floating near by so I walk down the steps and take a plunge swimming away from Mary. 

“See,” she says. “I told you it was warm, you didn’t believe me.” 

I ignore her and keep swimming.

Jim follows me in and swims toward the deep end. 

“See,” Mary repeats, “I told you it was warm, you didn’t believe me.” 

Rafe come out of the house and dives in. “I told them the water was warm,” Mary tells him. “They didn’t believe me. Blair, how’s the water?” she asks as I swim by. “The water is great,” I tell her. 

“And you didn’t believe me,” she repeats again. 

“You have a beetle in the pool.” I tell her and Rafe, thinking they will get the skimmer and take it out. No such luck. 

“Where?” she asks. “In the deep end,” I tell her. But she doesn’t get the skimmer. 

“Is it dead?” she asks. “I don’t know,” I tell her. 

“It must be the dead spider,” she says. 

“No,” I tell her, “it’s a beetle.” 

“It’s a Japanese Beetle,” Rafe confirms as he watches it bob up in down in the water. Since our host and hostess are not going to get the skimmer net Jim takes the matter into his own hands, cups a double handful of water containing the beetle and flings it out of the pool. 

“Is it dead?” Mary asks again. This time Jim answers as he swims toward me. “I don’t know.” 

“Then why did you throw it out of the pool?” she asks. 

Does this woman have her priorities backward or what? “He doesn’t want your filter to get clogged with bugs,” I tell her. 

Rafe is hanging on the side of the pool watching the beetle, trying to ascertain if it is dead. Mary starts to swim toward the deep end bringing her feet up and out of the water with each kick and creating huge splashes. I turn away only to come face to face with the dead spider. “I found the dead Spider,” I call, as I scoop it up and throw it out of the pool, grateful that it wasn’t caught in my hair. 

Mary splashes her way back to the shallow end “Why did you do that?” she asks. 

“Dead bugs can clog your filter,” I tell her again. I don’t mention that I want to avoid getting it caught in my hair. She would probably tell me to get a haircut or wear a swim cap. She is about to say something when Rafe interrupts.

“The beetle is alive it’s moving.” 

“Is it coming toward the pool?” Mary asks.

“Knock it back in and let it drown.” 

Rafe, bless his heart, flicks it away. 

“Did you kill it?” Mary asks. 

“No, it is on its back kicking,” Rafe tells her and she heads back to the deep end where the couple hang on the edge watching the beetle kick.

Jim and I amuse ourselves swimming and playing with a beach ball, we also get a beetle report every five minutes. “The beetle is on its feet…the beetle is walking…the beetle has changed direction.” On and on it goes interspersed with an occasional suggestion by Mary to throw it back in the pool and let it drown and Rafe’s occasionally chides to Mary about being cruel to bugs. A while later the beetle flips over on its back, the kicking stops, but our hosts keep up their vigil for another fifteen minutes before they decide that the beetle is indeed dead and it is time to get out of the pool. Elapsed time in the pool: one and a half hours. Isn’t Florida wonderful?


End file.
